


Broken

by Brenna_Fae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Coda of sorts, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, MCD is pre fic and canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 14:51:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12344874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brenna_Fae/pseuds/Brenna_Fae
Summary: Dean has dealt with a lot of loss in his life. He has never been big on talking about his feelings. But Sam has never seen him like this and Sam...Sam is afraid he's gonna lose his big brother too.Kinda of a coda for s12e23 Inspired by still from the preview for s13e1





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> This was rushed and unbetad for the most part but I wanted to get it out before tonight's premiere and today was the first chance I had to sit down and write after being inspired by the still. So apologies for any glaring typos or poor grammar or formatting.

“Dean. Please talk to me.”

Sam did his best to suppress his startle reflex when the loud clang of metal hitting metal echoed through the way too quiet bunker. His eyes felt glued to the duffle full of weapons that Dean had just thrown down to the ground as he tried not to think of how useless they all felt. None of them had done anything to save…

By the time he managed to force his eyes away Dean’s back was already disappearing through the doorway. Sam’s first instinct was to follow of course. Their entire world had just been ripped away in one fell swoop and there was an unknown variable in the form of Satan’s baby on the loose. And Dean had lost...well, Dean had lost more than anyone. So of course Sam wanted to go after Dean, mother hen him to death if necessary.

That way only led to fighting. It had taken Sam almost his whole life to realize how pointless it was to try and force Dean to deal with his crap. Finally Sam had realized that he would do it how he always did, with alcohol and a motherload of repression until he found something that he could pound bloody. So Sam knew better than to bother trying.

But still.

Sam had seen Dean dealing with all manner of grief. Sometimes he’d even had an up close and personal view, being the one that Dean was holding as his life had drained away. He’d seen Dean’s face awash with tears, the green of his eyes all the more pronounced when red rimmed. He’d seen Dean shouting his anger at the world, smashing to splinters any object unfortunate enough to be within arms reach. Sam had seen Dean desperate, willing to give anything, make any deal.

Sam had never seen Dean the way he was as they burned C-...as the burned the bodies. The look on his face. He was...

Empty.

Broken.

Lost.

Done.

“Fuck.” Sam swore softly before moving quickly to action.

It was no surprise that he found Dean in the kitchen, an open bottle of beer in his hand and a bottle of  Johnny Walker ready and waiting for when Dean would decide the beer wouldn’t give him the oblivion he was seeking. When Sam first walked in Dean’d been just kinda staring off into space, the bottle in his hand raised to his lips but not being drunk from. The sound of Sam’s footsteps must have been loud enough to penetrate whatever haze was surrounding Dean because he glanced in Sam’s direction before he tipped the bottle the rest of the way and swallowed down half of it in one go.

“Dean-” Sam started, taking a step towards his brother who immediately turned away and moved back towards the counter.

“Don’t Sammy.” Dean growled, his grip tightening on the bottle.

“No Dean. We need to talk about-”

“I mean it, Sam.” Dean said, spinning around to land a glare on Sam so strong it almost had him taking a step back as if it had physical weight to it. “I’m not doing this. I thought we finally established that this isn’t gonna be a thing I’m ever gonna do with you.”

“This is different.” Sam had to force himself to stay planted, fighting the urge to move forward and put his hands on Dean. “This is C-”

“NO!” Dean roared, his whole body suddenly a tense livewire, ready to either run or swing at any moment depending on Sam’s next move. “I’m  _ not _ doing this, damn it! There is  _ nothing _ to talk about. So we lost someone.  _ Again.  _ Hell, we lost a lot of someones. Doesn’t mean we need to have one of your little moments. I’ve tried that with you before, yet here we are.  _ Again.  _ Same shit, different day, right?”

Sam swallowed hard. He knew how bad this could go. One wrong word, one push too far and Dean could end up retreating even further. But he couldn’t just let it go. Not this time.

“This is  _ Cas. _ ” Sam forced out, a little softer this time.

“Yeah. It’s C-...it’s Cas. And Mom. And Crowley. And Kelly. And Rowena. And not that long ago it was Eileen. We lose people. It’s what we do. Saving people, hunting things. Right. More like getting people killed.” Dean railed on, but the fight seem to be draining from him and he slumped, leaning back against the counter.

“All those people, they were important. And we will grieve for them eventually. But Dean, they weren’t Cas. They weren’t...they didn’t mean to you what  _ he _ did. I lost a brother, one of my best friends. But you-”

“Sammy, please. I can’t.” Dean whispered, his eyes glued to the floor.

For a moment Sam was tempted to give in. The last thing he wanted was to cause his brother any more pain. But he knew if he didn’t push now Dean may never actually deal with this and that broken, hollowed out shell that Sam glimpsed briefly would eventually be all that was left. It may be selfish but Sam had already lost too much. He couldn’t lose Dean too.

“You  _ can _ . You have to.” Sam knew his next words were a gamble. “Cas would want you to.”

Sam braced himself. Waiting for the crash of glass from Dean throwing his bottle in a rage. Waiting for the hard shove to move him out of the way so Dean could escape. Maybe even waiting to be on the receiving end of Dean’s near deadly right hook.

What happened instead had Sam briefly frozen in shock. Dean nodded slowly, his eyes still on the floor, before he pushed away from the counter and walked past Sam, barely brushing against him as he headed out of the room. When Sam realized he wasn’t going to get the explosive reaction he expected he shook himself out of his unmoving state and followed behind Dean.

Still half expecting Dean to bolt and barricade himself away, Sam was surprised when his brother headed to the library rather than his own bedroom. He stopped at the door and watched as Dean made his way over to one of the long wooden tables that took up the middle of the room. Sam was tempted to look away when Dean stopped in front of the spot that the two of them had carved their initials into, leaving their mark just in case, what seemed like an eternity ago. Something about this moment seemed important, personal. Private. But he couldn’t abandon Dean. Not now.

So Sam bore witness. He watched as Dean set the bottle in his hand down a good distance from letters etched in the wood. He watched as Dean gently ran his fingers over the blank expanse near his own scratched mark. Neither had said it but both had thought it, how soon that spot would need another name.

Sam watched, but didn’t comment on, how his brother’s eyes turned glassy moments before the first tear splashed onto the polished, unblemished surface. He didn’t comment on how Dean bit down on his lower lip to keep it from trembling, to keep the sounds that wanted to escape trapped.

No, Sam just watched as Dean pulled out the switchblade from his back pocket, flipped it open, and carved.

C.W.

Sam watched as the room fell silent again as Dean finished adding the initials that belonged there as much as their own. He watched as Dean slowly closed the knife before he tucked it back in his pocket. Sam nearly broke his vigil when Dean reached down to trace the letters with his finger tips, but he had to be strong. Still, it took everything in him not to rush to Dean and wrap him up in a hug Sam knew would be unwanted right now when Dean’s voice broke the somber quiet.

“I’m so sorry, Cas. I-” Dean’s voice broke as he stared down at his work. “It shoulda...It shoulda been you doing this. I’m sorry I didn’t- It shoulda been you.”

The two men stood there in silence, one staring at the table and thinking of all the things he should have said and one staring at his brother and thinking of how much he didn’t deserve to lose his chance at a happy ending.

The stillness broke when Dean forcibly dragged in a shuddering breath. He picked up his beer and took another swallow before he turned to walk out of the room. He paused long enough to place a hand on Sam’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze, before he left. 

It may not seem like much, look like what other people would see as ‘dealing’ but for Dean… For Dean it was everything.  


End file.
